


The Grand Scheme of Our Disasters

by winehabit



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Day drinking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winehabit/pseuds/winehabit
Summary: One day.That’s all you wanted.Twenty-four hours of peace in the city you loved.Today was not that day.





	The Grand Scheme of Our Disasters

One day.

That’s all you wanted.

Twenty-four hours of peace in the city you loved.

One day without an attack.

From new gangs trying to instill fear in otherwise jaded New Yorkers, or The Hostile Extra-Terrestrial Race of the Month Club, or any other general bullshittery that had become the norm in The Neighborhood That God Forgot, Hell’s Kitchen.

At least four days out of the week, the thought of a day without having to seek shelter from some external force seemed too good to be true.

You woke to the smell of coffee wafting in from the kitchen and the sound of a gentle rain hitting the window. Stretching lazily, your hand met with the cool emptiness of the bed beside you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and for a moment you wondered if you’d slept through your alarm. The clock on the table quickly put you at ease, assuring you that you had two more hours before you had to be on the subway to work.

_So where in your little apartment could he possibly be?_

You didn’t hear the shower running as you toed past the door out to the kitchen.

_Nothing._

You scanned the small living room and kitchen but your heart stuttered in your chest when you caught sight of the note taped to your favorite mug.

 

_Headed to the safehouse to restock, should be back by tonight_

_-F_

Frank Castle was a man of few words, there was no question. The thought of Frank taking the time to leave a note so you didn’t wake up alone, not knowing where he was made your heart swell.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee and spent the next hour waking up slow and responding to work e-mails.

 _‘Good.’_ You thought to yourself skimming over an email about a bid your company had won on some heavily sought after commercial warehouse near the docks. Your opponent in the bidding war was known for shady dealings and the last thing Hell’s Kitchen needed was another gang gaining footing.

By the time it came time for you to get ready and head out the door you had almost let yourself believe that today would go off without a hitch.

_Almost._

_______________________________________

_‘What ever happened to the days of threatening letters?’_ You pondered as you let your bag slip from your tired arms the moment you crossed the threshold of your apartment. ‘ _Nothing whips the masses into a frenzy quite like a mystery powder in an envelope and the threat of mass casualties.’_

But no, apparently everyone and their third cousin had to flex their muscles and blow up a car in a basement parking garage to send a message.

You bit back a gasp as you removed your one remaining heel, the movement forcing you to put full weight on your rapidly swelling ankle.

Hobbling pathetically to the small bathroom, you got the first look at yourself since your otherwise serene morning.

The soot and the grime on your face had bled with the rain to form a gritty mud that no amount of bleach would take out of your shirt. Never mind the fact that the sleeve was torn and shredded at the shoulder, but at this point, it was mostly adding insult to injury.

Risking combing a hand through your hair rewarded you with small chips of broken glass hitting the sink and fine, stinging scrapes across your fingertips. Other than that there was a split in your lower lip that had thankfully given up bleeding on the walk home. A light bruise had formed along your cheekbone which wouldn’t be too difficult to cover if it didn’t darken any further.

You were pulled from your cross-examination by the sound of heavy boots hitting the hardwood floor. You heard the ragged near-snarl of his breathing before he stepped into your eye-line. By the way his chest heaved when he finally came into view, you knew he’d been running. In one long stride, he was standing in front of you.

Calloused fingertips ghosted over your skin, silently cataloging every mark that marred your skin regardless of how small.

“Who did this?” Frank’s tone was clipped, trying to balance his instinct to protect you with his need to punish whoever caused this.

"Russians.” He exhaled hard through his nose, closing his eyes and resting his hands on the sides of your neck. “We’ve been shooting down their bids to expa- ow, fuck.” You winced as the words opened the split in your lip. In a moment Frank was tipping your chin up, damp washcloth blotting at the crimson that had gathered. “They’ve been trying to expand what a little research revealed was a cover for an arms dealer.”

“Told ya to stay outta that.” He grunted, finishing with your lip. You were surprised by the lack of anger in his face as you looked up at him.

“It was for work. We had to know who our contenders were.” You shrugged, slipping your shirt over your head and letting the ruined fabric slip from your fingers. You set yourself gently on the lid of the toilet, acutely aware of the throb in your ankle. It had swollen to the point of straining against the nylon of your tights.

Attempting to lift yourself and slide your pencil skirt out from underneath you at the same time proved to be a challenging feat. You swore under your breath realizing that your chances of removing the garment with one arm doing the lifting and a stabilizing foot out of commission was going to be damn near impossible.

“Could you-?” Before you could finish the request Frank was slipping an arm around your bare waist. The chill of the rainwater on his sleeve was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his hand on your skin as he pulled you back to your feet.

“Any reason why you’re favoring your left side?” You sighed in defeat. _God there really was no getting past that Marine hyper-vigilance_.

“I tripped in the stairwell and someone stepped on it.” He nodded, making short work of slipping your skirt off, letting you grip his shoulder for balance before he sat you back down.

“Did hit your head?” You nodded. His eyes lingered on the bruise at your cheek. “Did you lose consciousness at any point?” You shook your head and he seemed to relax a bit at that before he zeroed in on your ankle again. When he prodded at a particularly tender spot you tensed with a gasp and he met your eyes.

 “It’s not broken,” His eyes on yours said it all as he kneeled at your feet.

 _Yeah, because it makes such a difference._  

And it was true, either way, for every cut or bruise that marred your skin, you knew that everyone who played a part in this was going to feel it tenfold.

Without a word, he hooked a finger on each hand into the already hole-ridden pantyhose and pulled.

In any other instance the image of Frank Castle on his knees, tearing off your tights after a long day of work would be enough to have white heat pooling in your stomach. Unfortunately, the only hum of pleasure you were afforded in your current situation came when the sheer fabric was removed from your injury.

Frank made short work of removing the remainder of the tights while you unclasped your bra, letting it fall with the rest of the discarded garments. You stood, leaning heavily on Frank’s broad shoulders as he hooked his thumbs into your panties, dragging them down your hips before helping you to step out of them.

“Let's rinse that grime off‘a ya’ and then I wanna get another look at that ankle, yeah?” His wry grin was the first taste of normalcy you’d had all afternoon and you nodded, hoping the light mood would linger.

He lifted you gingerly over the lip of the tub, making absolutely sure that you were braced against the wall before turning to peel off his own layers of clothing.

Once the water was as hot as you could stand it, thick arms were soon winding around your waist. When you stood straight, you felt his grip on you tighten the smallest amount. With a fair amount of squirming, you were able to turn in his grip.

 You should have been shocked at the absence of lust in his eyes. It was in no way the first time he’d seen you naked and if it were any other man in his place you would have seen an internal battle raging across their features. But here with Frank, it was different. When he looked down at your face, his eyes lingered on the injuries, no doubt blaming himself in some way for each one.

“Don’t let yourself go there.” You hummed, pressing your lips to his collarbone. “I’m still here.” He reached over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

His answering nod was accompanied by a low rumble in his chest. A few seconds later he was sweeping a soapy washcloth over your cheeks and neck.

“There she is.” He said almost to himself as you leaned back to rinse off the suds. You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth, grinning when you felt him deepen the kiss with a hand at the back of your neck.

The tension of the day seemed to circle the drain with the grime, the sting of your split lip falling by the wayside as he dragged his lips over yours.

You wanted to stay in this moment and hide from the dangers at work outside, but eventually, you needed to come up for air.

Your breaths mingled with the steam from the water as you both cooled down.

The two of you took turns washing the other’s hair and skin with unhurried hands. You shifted your weight to allow Frank to stand underneath the spray, hissing a breath through your teeth as your ankle throbbed.

The levity in Frank’s brow was gone in an instant as he cut the water, disregarding the soap that was still present on his neck in favor of passing you a towel. He disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, leaving you to wrap yourself easily in the warm comfort of the towel.

When he returned, clean clothes in hand and sweatpants slung low on his hips, you could almost feel his eyes rolling at the sight of you. One hand braced against the wall, prepping yourself to hurdle the lip of the tub on one foot to what was almost guaranteed to end in disaster.

“You’re pretty inpatient, you ever heard that before?” Frank quirked a brow, attempting in vain to fight the grin at the corner of his lips as he effortlessly picked you up again.

“I prefer independent,” You leaned up to stamp a kiss to his temple. “But yeah I’ve heard that one once or twice. Learned from the best, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, message received.” He ducked his head to press a kiss to your hair before he set you down gently on the edge of the sink. A chill ran through you at the loss of his warmth and you instinctively hooked your good foot under his ass, pulling him closer until your chests were almost flush.

“ _Down girl_.” He smirked, pulling one of his old basic training shirts over your head. The motion swept water soaked strands of hair into your eyes, effectively killing your mood.

“Tease.” You muttered. He rumbled out a chuckle as his lips pressed against your forehead, knowing that your frustration was only partially in jest.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you where you could almost feel the shift in mood in the air. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and he sighed, falling back into his racing thoughts.

“I was an hour out from the safe-house when it came over the scanner.” The muscle in his jaw ticked and jumped. “I didn’t, shit, I didn’t even realize it was your building until Micro called. The transmission hadn’t even ended and my phone was going off.” His hand came to rest at the side of your neck and the solid warmth of his skin on yours was a comfort to the both of you.

You knew him well enough to know that he needed to get this out. If he didn’t talk now, his guilt would manifest and he would inadvertently end up distancing himself.

“I couldn’t- couldn’t move, couldn’t think.” He exhaled sharply as your fingers carded through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “I never thought I’d feel that useless again. I mean, one, one second and I’m back at that goddamn carousel.”

“Hey.” Your voice was as soft as your lips on his cheekbone, calling him back to you. He was trying to regulate his breathing but he wouldn’t look at you. “Frank, you couldn’t have anticipated this.” You swept a thumb over the twitching muscle of his jaw, considering it a victory when it stilled under your touch. “Hell, I was there for everything leading up to this and _I_ didn’t see this happening.”

His nod was short and you could still hear the cogs turning in his head.

“Sweetheart, please.” You pressed your lips to the furrow in his brow and the slope of his nose (which had been shattered more times than you could count on both hands), before ghosting them over his own. You smiled at the contented noise he made at the back of his throat.

Pulling back after a moment, you nearly missed the split second he instinctively leaned in to follow your lips before his eyes opened.

“Now,” you drummed your fingers on the warmth of his chest. “Whaddya say we slap a frozen steak on this ankle,” he coughed out a laugh at that, “and just lay low for a bit? I think we’ve earned an opportunity to day-drink, don’t you?” His gaze on you was warm as he nodded. “Good answer.”

You slid forward to the edge of the counter, eyes already plotting your dismount and one-legged trek to the couch.

Before your toes could even graze the tile floor you were lifted and comfortably situated against Frank’s skin.

“ _Are you shittin’ me_?” He smirked, rolling his eyes as you crossed your arms and huffed out a breath. “D’ you really think I ‘s gonna let you-“

“It’s a light sprain, Frank… _if that_!” Still, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Get outta here with that.” The amusement was evident in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m not an invalid.” A traitorous yawn chose that moment to surface and he tried and failed to conceal his snort.

“I know you’re not, sweetheart.” He leaned down to stamp a kiss to your hairline before disappearing, still grinning, in the direction of your kitchen. “What are you feelin’?”

”Vodka. Freezer, top shelf, back right corner.” You called, hearing the sound of his rummaging.

Frank was in front of you a moment later, your vodka and his beers in the crook of his elbow and your first-aid kit tucked under his arm. You reached for the frosty liquor bottle, gently shaking your head when he held out a glass with it.

“That bad, huh?” Your long pull from the bottle was all the answer he needed as he moved your feet, pillow and all, into his lap. “Right. Get a bit more in you and then we’ll take care of it.” He popped the cap off a beer on the corner of the coffee table. As you waited for the alcohol to work its liquid magic, you went to work on finding something to watch.

By the time you had settled on Pretty Woman, you could feel the lazy smile creeping across your face. You glanced over at Frank, who was watching you with a warm smile, the one that actually reached his eyes and made him look at least half a decade younger. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when you were reminded how good happiness looked on him.

“Thanks, Darlin’.” His grin was childlike. _Of fucking course you had said that out loud._ “I think you’re definitely loosened up enough, yeah?” You nodded lazily, taking another pull from the bottle just to air on the side of safety.

His touch was sure yet feather light so as to not irritate the angry swelling.

“I can’t believe anything that happened today fucking happened today.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and focused on your breathing as he began twining the bandage around your ankle. “We were almost at the ground floor, two more flights of stairs and we were out. But no, Deanna’s heel broke and she tried to keep her balance by grabbing onto me. But that didn’t work out too well” You sighed, ghosting your fingers absently over your forearm, where there would surely be finger bruises later on. “Everyone was in such a rush. They didn’t stop, hardly saw us. Couldn’t….” You wrung your hands in your lap and took a steadying breath before trying to organize your thoughts. “And then Mark from accounting just-“ you mashed your palms together for emphasis and Frank nodded, tucking the end of the bandage and returning your foot to the pillow in his lap. You took another pull from the bottle, choosing to ignore the look of concern in Frank’s eyes as well as the lump that was rapidly forming in your throat.

“I mean, in the grand scheme of our disasters, today doesn’t even rank.” The laugh that fell past your lips was weak. Hollow. You shook your head, ignoring the waver in your voice as you continued. “But there was a second there when I was on the ground, where I remember thinking ‘ _well, that’s lights out for me._ ’ Everyone was rushing to get out. I caught a heel-” A sweep of a finger across the bruise at your cheekbone came back wet and only then did you realize you were crying. “I thought- I-I-“ The levee holding back your emotions finally gave way and you hid your face in your hands.

“Hey, hey c’mon now.” You felt Frank shift before he maneuvered so that you were sitting across his legs. “Shh shh shh.”

He spoke softly so as not to startle you while holding your head against his neck. You pushed the heels of your palms against your eyes in a fruitless attempt to physically stop the tears from escaping. Calloused fingers wrapped around your wrists and pulled them away.

You figured the stress of the day was going to catch up with you at some point but it didn’t make you feel any less pathetic.

“I’m s-sorry. I p-probably look like a-“

“Hey, don’t do that, alright? Look at me.” Your watery gaze reluctantly met his. “Today was a lot, yeah? This isn’t every day for you. Hell, it was a lot for me and this _is_ my every day.” His gruff laugh sounded choked and strained. “Just. . . give yourself a break, alright?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and attempted to suppress the hiccupping breaths that threatened to send you into another wave of tears. You felt Frank peppering kisses along your hairline. “Speaking of a break, how long are you on leave?”

“They said we could take the rest of the month and return once we’ve been cleared by one of the psychologists that HR is working with.” You rested your cheek on your chest, your fingers absently toying with the frayed collar of his shirt.

“So that gives us, what. . . fifteen days, yeah?” He swept his fingers feather light across your still damp cheek. “What do you say we get out of here, go up to the cabin by the lake, and just get the hell away from this shit for a little while?” You were nodding before he had even finished the thought. “Yeah? Good, then that’s settled.”

He let his hands rest at your waist letting the grip stabilize you as you removed yourself from his lap. He got to his feet and you moved to do the same. You wobbled on one foot, taking an extra moment to get your balance thanks to the alcohol. You furrowed your brow when Frank bent over, pressing his shoulder to your middle.

“Frank what’re you- _hey_!” The air left your lungs with a _whoosh_ when he threw you over his shoulder in a move so fluid, you’d have thought you weighed nothing at all.

“Hard-headed as hell, girl.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he landed an affectionate smack to the curve of your ass before starting in the direction of your bedroom. You retaliated by squeezing his ass with both hands, playfully pressing the blunt edges of your nails into the muscle there and shrieking with laughter when he pretended to drop you.

You were still beaming when you hit the mattress, with Frank following you down to press a quick kiss to your lips before grabbing the empty duffle bags he kept under the bed and starting to pack.

As you watched him moving around the room, you took stock of your life at that moment.

You had a sprained ankle, a hole blown in your office building, and some degree of post-traumatic stress that would most likely continue to rear its ugly head at inconvenient times. But you also had a life still ahead of you

, a roof over your head in a city you loved despite all its rough edges and a man you loved that would drop everything in an instant to help you.

So no, today was not the perfect relaxing day you had hoped it would be by any stretch of the word, but as you watched Frank pack, you realized that you wouldn’t trade the life you lived for anything the world had to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are incredibly appreciated!  
>  thank you for reading!


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